


Wander

by AutisticWriter



Category: Brian Pern (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Christmas Shopping, Confusion, Dementia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fear, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Happy Ending, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Memory Loss, One Shot, Phone Calls & Telephones, Swearing, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 22:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9627428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: Tony and Pat go Christmas shopping, but things don’t go according to plan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows the AU of Pat actually having dementia. I don't know why I ship Tony and Pat, but here we are!

Christmas was approaching, and that meant the ever so fucking fun task of buying everyone Christmas presents. It was a task Tony dreaded, but Pat and the others always found it rather fun, although for different reasons.

John never took Christmas shopping seriously. He specialised in buying shit or jokey presents, and always had a camera ready to take a photo of their not so excited reactions.

Brian always gave the bollocks excuse that he ‘didn’t care about material possessions’, yet he still managed to throw a fucking paddy whenever he didn’t get the ridiculously expensive present he wanted. He also used this as an excuse to give everyone else shit presents, but Tony was past caring.

The others were actually sensible when buying presents, but they didn’t exactly push the boat out, and it was clear they hated spending any more than the bare minimum on presents for people. Tony didn’t blame them; he hated it too.

But Pat loved Christmas shopping. To the point that, during the long period where they didn’t speak to Brian after he left the band, the soppy git still sent Brian Christmas presents. He always looked forwards to Christmas, and would head out to the shops as early as November to look for presents for the rest of the band.

This year, however, things were going to be different. Pat being diagnosed with dementia had changed everything. Since his diagnosis back in March, he had deteriorated to the point that he couldn’t go any further than their local shops on his own. So going Christmas shopping was out of the question.

“Well, you could go with him,” Brian suggested when Tony rung him to ask for advice. To tell the truth, he had actually meant to phone John, but he hit the wrong number and didn’t want to tell Brian this.

“What do you mean?”

He heard Brian sigh, like he thought Tony was being thick. “I mean, why don’t you take Pat shopping, instead of him going on his own.”

Tony hated agreeing with Brian (he still hadn’t forgiven the bastard for quitting the band), but he had to admit that Brian had given him a very good idea. It seemed to be the best of both worlds: Pat got to go shopping, and Tony didn’t have to worry that he was going to get lost. So that was what he decided to do; he was going to take Pat Christmas shopping.

“That’s brilliant, Tone!” Pat said when he told him, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

Tony smiled as he shook his head, not understanding why buying Christmas presents meant so much to Pat. But at least he was happy.

\---

On 13th December, Tony and Pat went up to London and entered one of the large shopping centres. It was loud and crowded, with bright lights and music blaring from the speakers, and it was obvious that Pat found the whole experience a bit overwhelming.

One of the biggest changes his dementia had caused was the way it screwed with his mood. The current problem was anxiety; the slightest thing could make Pat panic horribly, and Tony was hoping the busy, bustling shopping centre wasn’t going to do that. It made Pat feel dreadful, and was horrible to watch.

So, in an attempt to keep Pat calm, Tony put his hand on Pat’s arm and let his partner stand close to him, hoping their close proximity would reassure his partner. This seemed to do the trick, because Pat didn’t get panicked.

They wandered into different shops, just looking at things. Pat was getting clumsier as his dementia got worse, and so Tony kept a close eye on him as he picked things up, just in case he dropped them. In HMV, Pat tried on a pair of chunky headphones, and started laughing when he realised the music playing was ‘Black Christmas’ by Thotch. When they ventured into the sweet shop, Pat decided to buy everyone he knew some liquorice as part of their Christmas presents. But this decision made Tony’s eyes sting with suppressed tears, because he knew Pat used to love making his own liquorice, but he couldn’t do it anymore.

\---

After a couple of hours, Tony could tell Pat was flagging. So he decided to grab them some food from the cafe, and they sat and ate their sandwiches and drank their coffee, Pat leaning against Tony.

“Should we go in there next, Tone?” Pat said, pointing at the shop opposite their bench.

Tony looked where Pat was pointing. “That’s a perfume shop, Pat.”

“I know that. I thought we could look at the aftershaves, you know, ‘cause Brian and John like aftershave, don’t they,” Pat said.

Tony smiled. “Yeah, that’s a good idea, mate.”

Once they had finished their lunch, Tony and Pat ventured into the perfume shop. It reeked of foul smelling perfumes, scents and aftershaves, and Tony wrinkled his nose. Pat spotted the aftershave section, and they went over there. Tony picked up a bottle of posh aftershave and gave it a sniff. He grimaced at the horrible smell, but then he grinned.

_Brian’ll love it_ , he thought, knowing Brian had a dreadful taste in scent.

“What d’you think, Pat?” he said, turning his head to ask his partner’s opinion.

But Pat wasn’t there.

“Pat?” Tony said. “Pat?”

Tony spun around in a full circle, scanning the shop for any signs of his partner. He couldn’t see Pat anywhere.

“Shit,” he muttered.

Where could he have wandered off to? Tony felt his heart begin to race, and he hated himself for getting so worked up, but he couldn’t help but worry. Pat had no sense of danger anymore; in the last three months, he had nearly got himself run over six times because he forgot to look both ways before crossing the road. What if he got hurt?

“Pat!” he called, but he didn’t get a response.

Trying to slow his breathing, Tony shoved the aftershave back onto the shelf and ran off in search of Pat.

\---

Where the hell was he? Pat glanced around him, the lights seeming a bit too bright. He was obviously in some sort of shopping centre, but he didn’t recognise it, and he certainly didn’t remember getting here. He looked down at the ground, and realised he was carrying a plastic bag. Digging into the bag, Pat saw that it was full of packets of liquorice. He loved liquorice, but he didn’t have a memory of buying it. He turned his head to ask Tony where he bought it, but Tony wasn’t with him.

Where had Tony gone? He was sure he had gone out with Tony. So where was he? Was he lost again?

Not knowing where to go, Pat decided to follow a man and a woman into one of the lifts. He wanted to ask them if they’d seen Tony, but he couldn’t remember what his partner looked like, so he couldn’t describe him. He didn’t know what to do.

He was so scared.

\---

Tony searched the ground floor of the shopping centre, but there was no sign of Pat. He asked a few people if they’d seen Pat, giving them a brief description of the clothes Pat was wearing, but he didn’t have any success. As he climbed the stairs up to the next floor, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled the only person he thought might be able to help: John Farrow.

“What is it, Tony?” John asked irritably when he answered the call.

“I’ve lost Pat.”

“What? What the fuck do you mean, you’ve lost him?” John said.

“I mean I’ve fucking lost him!” Tony snapped. He took a deep breath and added, “Sorry. I’m stressed out.”

“I understand, mate,” John said. “Where’d you last see him?”

“In the perfume shop. I just turned around and he’d gone. I don’t know where the fuck he’s gone. What if he hurts himself?”

“Calm down, Tony,” John said. “We don’t need you having a panic attack on top of this. Come on, try to stay calm.”

Tony gritted his teeth. “That’s easy for you to say, isn’t it? It’s not your partner who’s lost.”

“I know that, Tony. I just think you keeping a level head will make this easier. Just take some deep breaths and try to calm yourself down. I’m sure Pat’s fine.”

Tony wanted to swear at him, to call him a fucking irritating wanker, but he still took deep, slow breaths and exhaled heavily, making sure John could hear him.

“That’s it, mate. Look, I’ve got an idea. Just search the whole shopping centre, and, if you can’t find him, go to the office and ask them to put a message out over the tannoy.”

“And what if that doesn’t work?” Tony asked, not sure he wanted to hear John’s reply.

He heard John sigh. “Then you’ll have to call the police. Try to stay calm, Tony,” John said, and he actually sounded fucking sympathetic for once. “I’m sure you’ll find him.”

Tony wasn’t so sure.

\---              

“Um... excuse me?”

Gemma looked up from her book as she heard a nervous, posh voice. She looked into the anxious face of the man stood in front of her, and felt her stomach flip when she realised he was Pat Quid. The guitarist of her favourite ever rock band was stood right in front of her in a shopping centre. It took a lot of restraint not to burst into hysterical laughter.

He smiled at her, but he looked distressed. “Um... I’ve lost my partner. Can you help me?”

He looked like he was going to say something else, but he got distracted. Pat looked down at her chest; Gemma saw his eyes widen and considered telling him to stop looking at her boobs, when she realised that Pat was actually looking at her Thotch T-shirt.

“That’s me!” Pat said, sounding amazed as he pointed at his picture on the T-shirt. “And Tony too...”

Gemma stared at him, amazed to see such a reaction, but then the answer came to her.

_Of course_ , she thought, feeling like a complete idiot. _Pat has dementia, doesn’t he?_

Gemma looked around them, knowing Tony must be around here somewhere. There was no way Pat would be out without his partner, not when his memory was bad enough to forget what band he used to be in.

“Of course I can help,” she said, finally answering his question. “Please, sit down, Mr Quid.”

Clearing confused as to how she knew his name, Pat frowned, but he sat down beside her. He hunched forwards and wrapped his arms tightly around his chest.

“So, what do I need to do?” Gemma asked.

Pat’s lip started to wobble. “I... uh... I don’t know. I can’t remember. I’m sure we had a plan for if I got lost, but I can’t remember it.” He chuckled weakly. “How typical.”

“Well, can you remember where you last saw him?”

Pat shook his head. “All I remember was him being next to me one minute... and then I was on my own. I don’t know what to do.” His voice cracked, and Gemma hoped he wouldn’t start crying.

“It’s all right, Mr Quid,” Gemma said.

Pat swallowed hard, and took in a deep, shuddering breath. Gemma smiled as she thought of something; it wasn’t the most original idea, but it was better than nothing.

“I know, why don’t we just wait here for him?” she said, giving Pat a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’ll be here any minute now.”

Pat smiled weakly. “Yeah... Um, could... can... can I hold your hand?”

“If you want to,” Gemma said, and she offered Pat her hand.

He smiled, and reached out and grasped her hand. His palm was drenched in sweat, but Gemma didn’t mind.

“Thank you,” Pat mumbled.

\---

Just when he was starting to get really scared, Tony turned a corner, and spotted Pat. He was sat on a bench next to a young woman, looking confused and scared and holding her hand. Immediately, Tony broke into a run and sped towards him.

“Pat!” he yelled.

Pat looked up and saw him, and a smile spread across his tense face. When Tony reached them, he pulled Pat into a hug and squeezed him tightly.

“Fucking hell, Pat, you scared the shit out of me,” Tony said, trying to catch his breath and resist the urge to cry at the same time.

Pat slumped against him, pressing his forehead against Tony’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Pat mumbled; Tony could hear his breathing shuddering.

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said, not wanting Pat to blame himself. “It’s not your fault. I’m just so glad I’ve found you.”

When they pulled apart, Tony looked at the young woman sat next to Pat. She smiled at him, her face going red.

“This is Gemma, Tone,” Pat said, wiping his rather damp eyes on his sleeve. “She’s... she’s been looking after me.”

“Hello,” Gemma said, her voice posh and slightly nervous.

“Hello,” Tony said, and he shook her hand. She smiled broadly. “Thank you for keeping him safe.”

“It’s nothing,” she said, and Tony grinned, feeling almost faint with relief.

\---

John jumped as his phone started to ring. Checking his caller ID, he saw it was Tony. He hoped Tony had found Pat.

“Hi, Tony,” he said, answering the call.

“Hello, John,” Tony said. He sounded very relieved, and John knew everything was all right. “I’ve found him.”

“That’s great, mate. Is he all right?”

“He’s a bit shaken, but I think he’s all right, yeah.”

John smiled. “That’s good. Enjoy the rest of your shopping.”

“We will,” Tony said. “Thanks John. Bye.”

“Bye, mate,” John said, and he sighed, glad that situation had been resolved.


End file.
